


The Big 4-0

by doctor__idiot



Series: 12 Days of Wincestmas 2017 [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Growing Old Together, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-28 18:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13277094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor__idiot/pseuds/doctor__idiot
Summary: “You know,” Dean says one day with his coffee mug halfway to his mouth, “I’d never thought we’d make it this far.”





	The Big 4-0

“You know,” Dean says one day with his coffee mug halfway to his mouth, “I’d never thought we’d make it this far.”

Sam stops chewing for a moment, then resumes. “Beyond the age of forty, you mean?”

“Or fifty for that matter.”

“Well,” Sam swallows, grins, “That’s only one of us so far.”

Dean gives him a disapproving scowl upon which Sam snorts. He wouldn’t have guessed his brother would be the kind to become self-conscious with age but apparently Dean is still able to surprise him.

“You’re still totally hot if that’s what you’re worried about,” he says easily, taking another bite of his breakfast. His tone is teasing but it doesn’t make it any less true.

Dean rolls his eyes, grumbles, and raises the morning newspaper to hide half his face. He’s one of those that insist on having the actual paper version while Sam prefers to read it on his tablet. Means they have to pay for two subscriptions because they are too stubborn to compromise but it’s just one of those things. Somehow it makes everything even more domestic and while the thought makes Sam’s mouth curl with affection, Dean would probably snort in disgust if he knew about it.

“Sleep okay?” Dean asks him and Sam blinks. “You stayed up late.”

“Yeah,” he says, “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Life,” Sam says.

“Very philosophical,” Dean returns, unimpressed, and Sam laughs.

He wipes his hand on the napkin and finishes his coffee with one last gulp. “I mean, you started it.”

Dean’s forehead wrinkles in thought and Sam would never call it ‘adorable’ to his face but that doesn’t change the fact that it is. Dean frequently accuses him of having puppy eyes but _Dean_ is the one who assumes a certain likeness with a bewildered beagle whenever he’s confused.

“I just made an observation,” he states finally. He empties his mug and Sam holds out his hand.

“Another?”

Dean shakes his head. “Makes me jittery.” He halts, shoots Sam a warning glance. “Don’t say anything.”

“I wasn’t gonna.”

It’s another one of those things that color their every day now. Sam is the one who’s had to get glasses and whose temples went gray a couple of years ago already but Dean is definitely the touchy one when it comes to the whole age subject. As if it’s not a miracle, a _gift_ , for a Winchester to make it past forty-five in one piece. Aside from the odd aches and pains and the accumulated scars, they made it out more or less okay, considering.

“I finished the spell,” he says to change the topic. “Gonna try it out later.”

In the last decade, one of his projects has been to gather all kinds of information he could about magic, and with the help of witches, psychics, and healers he was able to tap into his abilities again in a different way than before. A less dangerous, less desperate, and less self-destructive way. Not that Dean wasn’t apprehensive in the beginning but once Sam studied and catalogued all the books in the library and dabbled in witchcraft to fill some of the gaps in the lore and the spells provided in the Men of Letters books, he had to agree that it might be useful to have another ace up their sleeve. Besides, it’s kind of fun.

Both of them had to find something to occupy their time because there were only so many cars in the garage for Dean to wash and only so many books for Sam to read, even though the latter ran out a lot slower than the former _._ Sam was half-surprised not to have to fight Dean on acquiring additional cars but it should have been obvious that Dean would never be satisfied with anything other than the Impala.

She wasn’t getting any younger, either, and the wear and tear is starting to show even if Dean continues to take good care of her. For a while there, it seemed to them as if their life was falling apart, they themselves and everything around them withering, but that was probably the infamous mid-life crisis talking. Sam dimly remembers finding the whole thing hilarious – after all, aging isn’t exactly something either of them had ever had to worry about _–_ while Dean was decidedly not amused.

They are still getting there. There are still days where Dean will be grouchy and only at Sam’s prodding admit that he’s feeling restless, useless, out of touch with everything. It’s something that Sam doesn’t have to deal with, not really, because he’s always been more of the stay-in-one-place kind of guy, more so than Dean. And after they had agreed to stop hunting for the most part and only take jobs nearby, maybe act as a hub of information for other, younger hunters instead of risking their own asses out there on a regular basis, Dean was sort of insufferable for a while.

Sam doesn’t blame him. But he kind of likes the routine they fell into on their own after a while. It’s quieter now. More boring, too, sometimes but Sam doesn’t mind boring so much. He’s got everything he could ask for right there with him – a giant library containing secret and practically endless knowledge, a cozy if unconventional home in the bunker that would protect them and serve them well for decades to come, and his big brother alive and well if slightly grumpy most of the time. He likes the hominess of it, the normality – or whatever counts as normality for them – and even the slowness.

He likes waking up late, feeling warm and safe with Dean’s arms around him and his quiet snores in his ears. Of course Dean denies the snoring, and most days the cuddling, even while he’s already awake and most definitely _cuddling_ Sam. It’s a feat only Dean could manage. Sam doesn’t mind it.

Some days he’s afraid to call it what it is.

He’s happy.

It’s too unsafe a word, too fragile a thing, to think it lightly but it’s true. Sappy and completely, utterly true.


End file.
